


Thicker Than Blood is the Crests They Bear

by shipambrosia_bree



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Gen, Miklan attempts to kill his brother, Sylvain hates his Crest, The Gautier Crest, blue lions - Freeform, but nothing major, no explicit shipping, some spoilers for the game, thats like a first for me lol, the fire emblem childhood friend squad, they were my faves playing anyway and then i thought of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 05:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20595482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipambrosia_bree/pseuds/shipambrosia_bree
Summary: In which Sylvain goes missing, and his friends know why.





	Thicker Than Blood is the Crests They Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Set at some point pre-Tragedy of Duscur. The moment that Sylvain mentioned all the ways that Miklan tried to kill him, I wondered what his friends growing up would have thought of that.

_ It’ll be fun, Sylvain. _ He had said.

_ Just the two of us. _ Sure, it sounded wonderful.

_ Don’t tell father and mother, they’ll just spoil everything _ . He was right. And Sylvain would do anything for him.

Miklan never wanted to spend time with him. Miklan never wanted to even be around him. When his brother offered to take him for a horse ride through the mountains, it meant everything to Sylvain. It was everything to him. Finally, Miklan was seeing him for what was true; he hadn’t chosen to disinherit him with his birth. There was nothing more that little Sylvain wanted than for his brother to love him.

As he lay in the snow, alone and cold in the quiet winter evening, he finally confronted himself. Deep in his heart, he knew it had been too good to be true. He had always known Miklan hated him, and that wouldn’t go away in a single day. Still he had believed him, put all his faith in him.

Right to the moment that Miklan told him to get off the horse.

As he watched his brother ride away, Sylvain was angry, but not at him. He was filled with fury and hatred toward the goddess, toward his parents, toward his  _ Crest _ . This thing he never asked for, didn’t even fully understand. Why? Why had this happened to him? He supposed if he were to die here, at least he’d had some good times. Dimitri, Felix, Ingrid... his closest friends. At least while his parents mourned their heir, his friends would mourn  _ him _ .

~

Dimitri, ever the prodigious hard worker, was returning from training for the day when he overheard the conversation.

“The heir you say? That’s the boy who was friends with Dimitri,” Lambert sighed. “My word... how would I ever be able to tell him?”

“Tell me what, father?” Dimitri asked, having stepped forward into the room without even realizing it. “Who are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“Dimitri,” the king, so strong and wise and ever the perfect image of a knight to the young prince, he looked so sad as he kneeled down so he could be level with his son. “How much did you overhear?”

“Just the last part. I was with Gustave until but a moment ago,” he looked up, toward the man who had been speaking with his father. “I recognize you, sir. You’re from House Gautier. So you were talking about Sylvain.”

“Ever the perceptive young man,” the man chuckled, but there was a darkness to his eyes.

“Dimitri,” his father let out a sigh and avoided his son’s direct gaze. “Sylvain went missing about three days ago. Margrave Gautier sent his man to me immediately, so he could have been found by now but... we don’t know. We won’t know until I get another report.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened in response, as all the breath left the young prince’s body. Something like this... he was no stranger to death. Dimitri had seen people die before, in front of his eyes. He knew his birth mother had died, and that was why his mother wasn’t truly his mother. But to think Sylvain would be claimed in such a way was a thought that had never occurred to him. He had always imagined his friends - Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain of course too - growing up to become knights in his service when he became king.

Except, the thought had occurred to him before. Once, when the four of them had all gathered not even a year ago at Margrave Gautier’s manor.

~

The clashing of practice swords was a common sound in the Fraldarius household, if it wasn’t Duke Fraldarius’s two sons competing with each other than there was at least one of them fighting an instructor or even more interestingly, dueling their father. For now it was Glenn and Felix facing off, per usual the younger of the two having once again challenged his older brother to a duel.

With a quick thrust, Glenn pushed the tip of his sword into his brother’s shoulder, just above his heart.

“I purposely struck above your heart so as to not hurt you. But I think I win again, Felix,” he chuckled.

“Ngh, again!” Felix snarled. “Another bout! I must beat you!”

“That’ll be the day, little brother,” Glenn shook his head as he walked off the training ground and sat on a nearby bench. “But I think five rounds is enough for one day. I’m beat.”

“How is it even possible? I train so much more than you!”

“What do you think I do in the capital all day? Stare at Prince Dimitri?”

“No, but it’s not like you and Dimitri can spar all the time! When you’re gone, all I do is train but it doesn’t even seem to matter!”

Glenn leaned over and flicked his brother on the forehead. Felix yelped and rubbed the spot, narrowing his eyes at him.

“It’s not about how much, but the quality of the training. If you’re just running yourself until you’re exhausted, that’s not going to do you any good. You need to understand what to improve on, and figure out how to compensate for your weaknesses. That’s why I train with His Highness so much. You and I are too similar in the way we fight.”

Felix pouted. “What do I need to work on then?”

“You need to compensate your lack of defense with your speed. You’d be even faster than me I’d bet,” he grinned. “Have you ever sparred with Prince Dimitri? I’d love to see that.”

“Father won’t let me. He thinks Dimitri and I might actually hurt each other.”

Glenn howled with laughter for a moment, clutching his stomach. “Ha! Well he’s not wrong,” finally when his laughter died down, he placed a hand on Felix’s head and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry Felix, it’ll happen someday. You and I both, we’ve gotta get stronger than His Highness if we want to serve him, right?”

And Felix looked up to his brother, to the person he looked up to more than anyone else in the world, and cracked a grin. “Of course.”

It was then that the doors to their training yard burst open, and from them came their father, Rodrigue. The duke was a man known by his sons to be rather jovial and cheerful, but the same could not be said about him in that moment. Duke Fraldarius’s entire face was darkened, his brow furrowed deeper than either of them had ever seen.

“Father? What’s wrong?” Glenn stood up, dropping the sarcastic tone and “old man” greeting he usually gave their father upon recognizing that something serious was happening.

“We’re leaving for Gautier territory tonight,” the duke’s words were sharp and crisp. “Boys, gather your things.”

“Did something happen? Did the people of Sreng attack? How could they retaliate so soon? It has only been six years since you and King Lambert quelled their uprising,” Glenn dropped the information he recalled from his studies quickly, once more leaving his younger brother in awe of his abilities.

“No, it is not Sreng. At least, goddess I hope not,” Felix stiffened up when his father’s gaze moved to him. “Felix. Sylvain has gone missing. I’m taking you boys with me to help search for him, and so that his friends will be there when he is returned. Count Galatea and his daughter should be on their way, and I believe Gustave will be bringing Prince Dimitri as well. Do you understand?”

All the joy and frustration building up in his body from sparring with his brother rushed out of him in an instant, and instinctively, Felix looked toward his brother. Glenn was staring straight ahead, eyes narrowed, teeth clenched tight in anger. Like his brother, Felix also looked up to Sylvain who, despite being friends with him and Dimitri and Ingrid, was two years older than the rest of them. To hear Sylvain could be hurt, could be missing, even dead somewhere... just didn’t seem fathomable. Sylvain had made a promise to him; a promise that neither would die without the other. He couldn’t die on him now.

Staring into his brother’s face however, suddenly the situation became all too clear.

~

Ingrid was silent in the carriage to Gautier. Her hands were clutched together in her lap tightly as she muttered prayers under her breath to the goddess that Sylvain would be found safe before she and her father even arrived. It had not even been that long since she had last seen her friend, loud and obnoxious and exhausting that he was. She found that any time she spent with him was only spent cleaning up his messes, apologizing to people he’d angered or upset. 

She knew Sylvain meant no harm, and she was just grateful they’d gotten to the point where he stopped attempting to flirt with her too; amusedly, it’d taken him saying something in front of Glenn and for the older young man to threateningly tell him to back off to finally do it. Ingrid smiled ever so slightly at the memory.

The ache in her chest brought her back to reality though, the pain of not knowing what had befallen her friend. Was he dead? Had he been kidnapped? Of course she and all her friends understood extremely well the danger their lives were in constantly; not only were they the children of nobles - Dimitri being the prince and next heir to the throne, and both Felix and Sylvain being the children of two of the highest ranking noble families in Faerghus - but all four of them bore Crests of the Ten Elite Heroes. They were all incredibly sought after for marriage, so she was sure that even kidnapping wasn’t out of the question.

“Do they... do they have any clue as to what happened?” She spoke up finally.

Her father appeared to be startled by her voice, looking up at her quickly before back down to the floor of the carriage. “Not from the message I got sweetie, no. But it takes some time for those messages to be delivered, you know. They will probably have some idea by the time we arrive.”

“Sylvain could be returned safe by that time, could he not?”

Her father nodded, giving her a smile. “Of course, Ingrid. That’s why I’m bringing you. When he returns safe, he’ll want to see his friends, wouldn’t you think so?”

She could see it in his eyes though, that her father didn’t truly think that was what would happen. She supposed it was good then, it was a show of his support for House Gautier, that he would travel so far to help them search for their missing heir. And she would help too, as best as she could. She may also have Dimitri and Felix, and even Glenn, but nothing would be the same in their group if Sylvain was found dead, or never found again.

Yes, their group, the future leaders of Faerghus... who all bore Crests...

~

He wondered how well his friends remembered that night in the manor. His father had thrown a party; for what, Sylvain couldn’t have been sure. Even if he wanted to know, his father still probably would’ve insisted he was too young to understand. The only thing Sylvain cared about was that King Lambert, Duke Fraldarius, and Count Galatea were all in attendance, which almost guaranteed that his friends would all be there.

There was nothing he looked forward to more while growing up than the days he got to spend with even one of them, so having Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid all together was a dream come true. It helped lessen his loneliness, which suffocated him. Sure, he was friends with the attendants, he could go or do anything in Gautier territory that he so pleased. But somehow, just by avoiding him, Miklan made it a nightmare. He should have known; seeing him surrounded by kids his age, seeing him happy, would only have made Miklan more furious.

“I cannot believe Glenn is to be your retainer, Dimitri!” Ingrid clasped her hands together as she chirped. “He’s just incredible, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. I’m very happy to have such a friend by my side,” the young prince answered.

“Well, I could be a better retainer than him,” It was Felix who spoke up, looking unhappy. “You should pick me.”

“It was Gustave who picked Glenn, not I.”

“Besides Felix, you just can’t compete with Glenn!”

“Oh shut up Ingrid!”

Even though his friends were bickering, Sylvain couldn’t have been happier to have them there.

“Guys-“

A shadow fell over Sylvain, causing him to stop in the middle of his sentence. He looked up to find Miklan standing above him, looking down with that cold expression he was so used to.

“Miklan?” It was Dimitri who spoke first. He sounded only a bit confused. Sylvain supposed he was confused too. Miklan didn’t speak to him.

”Figures you babies are just standing around talking,” his older brother laughed. “All the adults in the manor are busy so you could be off doing whatever you wanted, but here you are. Just a bunch of spoiled rotten children.”

“What do you want, Miklan?” He groaned.

“ _ I _ was just going to take a peek at the Relic... maybe play around with it a little,” his older brother answered with a smirk. “No one’s around to tell me not to.”

“Well, we’re around,” Ingrid said with narrowed eyes.

“Right, so are you going to come with me to see the Relic or not?”

Dimitri spoke up. “We shouldn’t. Hero Relics are extremely dangerous. Our parents only use them after extensive training.”

“No, I think we should go with him,” Felix said, stepping up beside Sylvain and narrowing his eyes at the older Gautier brother. “What right does he have to touch what’s rightfully yours? You have to prove you’re better than him.”

Sylvain saw a shadow cross his brother’s face for a moment, sending a chill down his spine. His childish pride wouldn’t let him back down from Felix’s statement though, and he nodded. “Fine, we’ll come.”

Miklan just grinned again. “Understood. Follow me.”

Though Dimitri and Ingrid protested the entire way, all four kids followed Miklan up to the room where his parents kept the Lance of Ruin. With such an ominous name, Sylvain had always been frightened by the prospect of having to wield it one day for his family. He knew it was the weapon that kept his family safe, but he also knew it was more powerful than he could ever hope to understand. Sylvain watched as his brother walked up to the case it was kept in, produce the key from his pocket, and push it into the lock.

“Did you steal that from Margrave Gautier?!” Dimitri guffawed.

“Sure did little princeling.”

“Our father is going to kill you if we get caught,” Sylvain exclaimed.

“He’ll have to kill both of us, since you were here too,” Miklan grinned again that mean smile. “Guess you better hope we don’t get caught.”

The four children watched as Miklan opened the case, reaching in to grab the pole of the lance. It was not the first time Sylvain had seen it, and it wasn’t the first time any of them had seen in a Relic since both Dimitri and Felix’s fathers wielded their own and Ingrid had already been shown her inheritance, it was the first time any of them had seen a Relic without any adults present.

Miklan touched the lance, gasping somewhat at the power that pulsed through him at the touch. Slowly, he removed the Lance of Ruin from its case, and all of them present stared in silence.

“You should put that back, Miklan,” Dimitri spoke in his I’m-a-prince-and-you-should-listen-to-me voice. Eventually they all would but Sylvain still found it funny, and would have laughed if he wasn’t suddenly filled with dread as Miklan spun the lance around in his hands.

“You aren’t in charge of me yet, princeling.”

“It’s your lance! Stop him!” Felix exclaimed.

Sylvain gathered his nerves, clenching his fists at his side’s tightly. “Miklan! Stop!”

He watched his brother set the Lance of Ruin at his side, turning to face him with an expression that Sylvain didn’t recognize. “What?” There was a hostility to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“I-I think...” he could feel himself losing his nerves quickly. “You should put the Lance of Ruin back, and we should all leave before we get caught. They’re going to notice us missing.”

“Oh yeah? And I think spoiled little brats like you should learn their place!” In a heart stopping maneuver, his older brother pointed the tip of the lance toward him.

Sylvain stared down the shaft of the pole, never once expecting in his life to be afraid of the weapon he was to inherit would be used against him. “Remember what father said? You can only wield a Hero Relic if you bear the Crest that matches it. We don’t know what the lance will do if wielded by someone who doesn’t have one, and you don’t have the Crest of Gautier-“

“ _ You think I don’t know that?! _ ” His brother roared, swinging the lance around. “You think I don’t think about that every day?! Because of you! It’s all because you were born! Why did you have to have the Crest; but  _ not me?! _ ”

“Miklan, stop!” Dimitri yelled.

“Sylvain!” Felix and Ingrid cried at the same time as the Lance of Ruin came flying from his brother’s hand... directly at him.

The next heartbeat later, Sylvain was staring into the familiar face of Felix’s older brother, Glenn. The Fraldarius heir had him pinned to the ground, breathing heavily as though he’d just experienced a very intense workout. When Glenn registered just exactly what had occurred, he took a deep breath and smiled at him. “I cannot believe... I made it in time...”

As he stood up and offered a hand to Sylvain, the younger Gautier brother took in what had occurred. The Lance of Ruin was wedged into the wall, at the same height as Sylvain’s head where it had been only a moment ago. Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid were on the other side of the room, all looking shocked with their mouths agape. And Miklan...

Miklan hadn’t moved an inch, staring ahead of him with no intention to look at his brother.

All six noble children stood there in silence until some time later when they heard footsteps, and several adults cane burst into the room. At the front of the group was Margrave Gautier and his wife, looking madly between their two sons and the Hero Relic they protected. Sylvain listened quietly as Glenn explained calmly what had happened to everyone.

He’d seen Miklan provoking the four younger kids, then watched them all leave and decided to follow. Glenn had wanted to step in and intervene with the others when they insisted Miklan put the lance back, to tell his brother he was wrong, but the scene escalated quicker than he could have anticipated and leapt in to push Sylvain out of the way of the lance at the last moment.

And that memory, that one small situation in time, was how when they all thought about it, Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid all came to the same conclusion as to who could have caused their best friend to disappear.

_ He wasn’t actually trying to kill Sylvain _ , the adults had all said.  _ He was just angry about the Gautier Crest and acted without thinking. That’s how he’s always been _ . But they hadn’t been there. They didn’t know. They hadn’t seen the same smile that Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid had watched cross Miklan’s face after he realized he’d thrown the lance.

“It was Miklan who made Sylvain disappear.”

~

By the time each of them reached Gautier manor, Sylvain had in fact been rescued. Ingrid, having left first, arrived ahead of the others, and was sitting next to her friend’s bed when Dimitri and Felix arrived together. Sylvain was awake but still advised to stay in bed, wrapped up in several blankets with a fire going in the hearth at the other side of his room.

Sylvain had spent nine hours alone in the cold, on the side of that mountain. It was a miracle by the goddess that he was still alive, they all knew that. It was an unspoken understanding amongst the four of them that under any other circumstances, he would have died. So they were more than grateful to sit by Sylvain’s bedside, to talk with him as long as they needed, to pretend that hadn’t just been the worst three days of all of their lives and that their friends’ brother hadn’t actively meant to try and kill him.

“Dimitri believes Miklan is behind this,” King Lambert informed the others.

Count Galatea was taken aback. “Ingrid said the same thing.”

“So did Felix,” Duke Fraldarius nodded. “And Glenn seemed inclined to agree.”

“I see,” answered the boys’ father.

“I understand that there may not be hard proof for this,” the king continued. “But I believe the children may all be referring to what occurred at that party a year ago with the Lance of Ruin.”

“It’s just one incident after another,” the duke shook his head. “Even if there’s a chance that we have grossly misunderstood this situation, you must make it clear to Miklan that he cannot put his brother in such danger.”

“And even if his anger is only directed toward Sylvain, next time it could be my Ingrid caught in the fire,” Count Galatea added. “Or His Highness.”

Margrave Gautier nodded. “Of course. I understand very, very much. It will not happen again. As of now, Miklan will be disinherited completely from the Gautier family.”

~

He felt that pain in every enemy he cut down with the Lance of Ruin in hand. He saw his brother’s grinning face, heard him call him “ _ you Crest-bearing fool _ ” over and over in his head whenever the lance was in his hands. Watched him scream and curl in agony and transform into the monsters that he slay on the battlefield. In that way he understood the ghosts that tormented Dimitri very well. Miklan never left him alone.

But it was the Crest Stone embedded in the lance’s surface that reminded him he had to keep fighting. It was the reason he carried on, for the Crests. To do away with them once the war was over, to make people forget they were ever important in the first place. He hated his blood, which carried his Crest, which could be passed down to one of his children some day. But Sylvain had already made up his mind; no matter Crest or not, his firstborn child would be the legitimate heir to House Gautier.

They charged into another endless battle. The lance glowed red in his hands. As red hot as his fury, all his pain, and all the blood he had spilled. But it was fine, because it meant that he would never forget that which was most important.

He hated his Crest almost as much as Miklan had hated him.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr, @ship-ambrosia. I'm usually all about ships, but not this time! Fire Emblem is consuming me so much, I wrote this fic in a single day - one where I had to take my cat to the vet, too! She's still glaring at me as I post this lol


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